


010. Secret

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Fluff, One Word Prompts, Other, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hancock asks the Sole Survivor about their past. Originally posted <a href="http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/7011.html?thread=18454115#t18454115">here</a> on the Fallout Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	010. Secret

"So," Hancock said, tossing his lighter from hand-to-hand. "Where you from?" This late in the night, the Third Rail was practically deserted. A few stragglers lingered at the bar or in the corner booths, staring morosely into half-drunk beers or else high out of their minds.

"North of here," said Bishop. They took a swig of skunky beer then ran their finger along the ring of condensation left on the tabletop, pointedly avoiding the mayor's black eyes.

"North," Hancock repeated. "Exciting. Where 'north,' exactly?"

"Does it matter?"

Hancock shrugged one-shouldered. "Not really. But I would like to get to know you better. You been in Goodneighbor nearly two weeks and you're still a stranger."

Bishop glanced up at 'get to know you better,' wondered if the mayor was coming onto them. Hard to tell; they still didn't have much experience parsing ghouls' expressions. "Maybe I like being a stranger," Bishop said, shifting in their seat. They wet their lips with their tongue, wondered what the mayor looked like out of his frock coat.

He laughed. "Very mysterious," he said, a note of approval in his voice. "Message received. I won't pry."

"I don't mind talking," Bishop said quickly. "I just don't like talking about that."

"Fair enough," said Hancock. "What do you like to talk about?"

"Electronics," said Bishop. "Pre-war patent law. Military history. I'm really quite boring."

"Don't sell yourself short," Hancock said, leaning forward on his elbows, Jet inhaler trailing from his gnarled fingers. "I'm sure patent law is very interesting." He set the inhaler aside, put his hands on the table, fingers splayed.

"It isn't," Bishop said, allowing themselves a small smile. "But nothing gets my motor running like flow charts."

"My god, I just came in my pants." Hancock smirked, mouth twisting up in an unmistakable grin. "Keep talking dirty, you mad beast."

Bishop's heart skipped a beat. They set their hand on top of Hancock's, scarcely daring to breathe. His skin was warm and dry, rough like eczema scars--an unaccustomed sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

Hancock grinned wider, and Bishop returned his smile, heart fluttering in their chest.


End file.
